


Days Gone By

by Lafeae



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Mutual Loneliness, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21953926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafeae/pseuds/Lafeae
Summary: On Christmas, Jounouchi is alone in a New York hotel bar, and runs into Kaiba.It’s been ten years since they’ve seen each other, but they’ve got plenty in common, and an entire night to share.
Relationships: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Kaiba Seto
Comments: 18
Kudos: 65





	Days Gone By

**Author's Note:**

> i blame (love) Alecto for giving me this idea, and don’t intend any similarities to her Christmas fic, ‘You’re everything on my list’, but I’m confident they’re there so let’s call this inspired. :3 and go read the fic, it’s amazing. 
> 
> Anyways, onto Christmas.

The elevator shook as it came to a halt on the first floor. The sliding doors opened up and pelted Jounouchi, as well as the occupants, with a brass instrumental of ‘Let It Snow’, just to remind them that it was, in fact, the holidays. 

The red, white, and green sparkling lobby did that well enough. The pillars were wrapped with silver lights; holly and garland was stuck on every crevice and doorway imaginable, but he had taken pleasure in noticing the forgotten Jack o’ Lantern on concierge’s desk when his manager checked them in. 

Jounouchi made a beeline for the bar, passing beneath mistletoe, catching the curious looks of a pair of older ladies in lounge chairs. He tried not to engage; he didn’t know if they were fans and could see him through the sunglasses and ball cap, and he didn’t really want that conversation right now. What he wanted was a drink. A strong, stiff drink.

The bartender shot him a glance, and he asked, “Shot-and-a-half or double?” 

“Surprise me.” Jounouchi fell onto the same barstool, the second to last one, closest to the back exit, as he had every day he’d been stuck in the hotel. Before long, a glass was set in front of him. He went to flick the lime in but didn’t get the satisfying _plop_. Instead, it was skewered through, a cherry and miniature marshmallow layered on top of it. “What’s with all the dressin’?” 

“It’s Christmas,” the bartender answered. “I thought it kind of looked like Santa.” 

“If ya squint.” 

“Plus I figured it went with Tito’s better than a candy cane.” 

“Hey, anythin’ goes with Tito’s. Point is to get drunk, ya know?” Jounouchi replied. 

Pulling the toothpick out, he dropped the lime into the drink and threw it back. It would take a lot more than that to make his head spin. He figured he was sufficiently drunk when he could take the disguise off and not care if anyone came up to him asking for an autograph. Though, considering how empty the hotel bar looked, there was a chance of not having to worry about that. 

Soon, another glass landed in front of him. This time with a candy cane. 

Wearily, he smiled to the bartender before sipping. He tried to enjoy it; the fact of the matter was that the bartender was the closest person he’d found to companionship the entire time he’d been in New York City. There were plenty of places to go, plenty of things to do, but he hadn’t found the energy. Being an actor kicked his ass more than he thought it might. Long hours, little sleep, constant travel, being typecast. It made the bar, and the bartender, cozy. 

After a few drinks, the room fell quiet. A piano rendition of ‘Winter Wonderland’ twinkled in the distance, and the lights had grown fringe in his vision. 

“Another?” The bartender asked. 

Jounouchi squinted to make the lights clearer. It made the bartender’s face clearer, also. He looked nice. Square jaw with a bit of stubble. The top-knot was a bit of a put-off, but beggars weren’t choosers. If he didn’t want to be alone for the night, the bartender was as good a choice as any. 

“I dunno,” he thought aloud. And he eyed the wedding ring on the bartender’s finger. Damn. “I dunno.” 

“The person on the end is paying.” 

“If it’s some older lady, I don’t want it. Tell ‘em I’m too drunk.” 

“And if it’s a guy?” The bartender asked. 

Swivelling to the right, his head spinning, Jounouchi eyed the creature at the end of the bar. Gangly, a blob of pale skin and dark, wool clothes. The sharp profile seemed familiar, like some long forgotten memory. It could have been someone from high school. After ten years, he wasn’t even sure how any of them would look beyond Yuugi or Anzu or Honda. The coiffed brown hair seemed reminiscent of most of the serious, top-of-the-class contenders. 

“I don’t...I dunno if I wanna bang him though,” he said. 

The bartender snorted and left the drink. It was bought and paid for. And the stranger’s features itched at his brain so hard that he knew he had to know this person. No matter how many people he had met or worked with, his shit-faced brain recognised them.

“Oi, how do I know you?” he asked, switching to Japanese. That would at least narrow it down. 

“High school,” they replied in Japanese. 

“Ha! I was right.” He picked up the drink and drifted towards the other end of the bar. “Who are ya? Tanaka? Ueno? No, no....you’re Nakajima from 2-C, aren’t ya?” 

“Take off the sunglasses.” 

That voice. Even in English, he heard the deep inflection, the haughty roll of his tongue and seductive curves of his syllables. “...what are ya doin’ in New York, Kaiba?” he asked, slipping the glasses off to get a better look. 

Kaiba’s whole body shrugged. “I could ask you the same question, Jounouchi. Or should I call you Wheeler now?” he asked, and shifted back into Japanese. 

Jounouchi didn’t realise how much he missed the language, and couldn’t remember the last time he spoke it. Weeks. Years. Kaiba would probably tell him he was rusty. 

“Whatever. Either’s fine.” 

Debating whether or not to sit, Jounouchi fell into a seat two away from Kaiba and stared at him in the same star-struck way people stared at him. There was no way he was really there. This was just a figment of his drunk mind demanding something familiar.

“Is it really you, moneybags?” 

“Unfortunately,” Kaiba said, and he leaned back, crossing his arms and shaking the ice in his glass. “I suppose you’re going to tell me this is destiny of some sort.” 

“Could be. We don’t know what the future’s got planned for us, but I dunno if me and you meetin’ in a big city’s destiny or not. This hotel’s swanky after all; seems like your kind of place.” 

“It’s good on short notice,” Kaiba replied. 

“The Ritz all full for the night?” 

“Waldorf, too.” 

Jounouchi laughed, stopping short when he nearly spit out the drink he hadn’t realised he was sipping. “You’re serious, aren’t ya?” he said, trying to gauge Kaiba through his hazy vision. The man had sheet-rock for an expression, and Jounouchi moved on, tracing over his groomed brow and rosy cheeks, sharp but not as jagged and angry as it had been when he was sixteen. “You couldn’t pay your way in, even?” 

“Not on Christmas, no.” 

“Ya tried!” Jounouchi howled, dropping his forehead on his arms. 

“It’s not that funny.” 

“It’s fuckin’ hilarious. There’s things out there that Kaiba Seto can’t buy his way out of. Into. Whatever,” Jounouchi said, letting the laughter taper off. Past Kaiba, he was entranced by the steady curtain of snow falling outside. “So this had to be like, twenty-second on your list or somethin’, huh?” 

“It’s irrelevant.” 

“Did ya jus’ get in, then?” 

Kaiba’s shoulders dropped, and he shifted to face Jounouchi. “Since you’re so nosy, yes. I did.” 

“That’s a long flight from Domino.” 

“Not Domino,” Kaiba said. “Paris.” 

Jounouchi wet his lips and tongue with the drink, trying really hard to focus on Kaiba and recall all the details about body language his coaches had taught him so many years before. He wasn’t sure if it was doing him any good, but Kaiba recrossed his legs three times already. 

“It’s still a long flight. Though I figure if you’re headed home, you’d go the other way.” 

“Like you know anything about flying.” 

“Some things,” Jounouchi rebutted. “I’ve been tryin’ to get a pilot’s license. Seems like it would be pretty fun to do.” 

Kaiba ‘harrumphed’ and looked back into the empty glass. “I don’t know if I’d want to share the airspace with you. Seems rather reckless; do you even have a driver’s license?” 

“In two countries,” Jounouchi beamed. 

“Wonderful.” 

“Though I ain’t about to go drive shitfaced. Or fly. ‘Sides, New York has taxis, and where can’t people Uber these days?” he said, unable to stop himself from talking no matter how much he wanted to. Kaiba, of all people, made him feel like talking. “So are ya headed home or not?” 

“No.” 

“So ya ain’t goin’ home for the holidays?” 

Kaiba didn’t respond immediately, calling the bartender over and pushing his empty glass to the edge. As he poured the drink, he stared at Jounouchi and mouthed ‘you okay?’ and waited until he got a curt nod. 

“Kaiba?”

“What?” 

“Where are ya headed if you ain’t going home?” Jounouchi asked. 

“Do I really have to answer all your asinine questions?” Kaiba shot back. His blue eyes were blazing, dangerous and wide, as if Jounouchi had just threatened Mokuba or his company instead of making small talk. 

“I mean...ya bought me a drink.” 

“Not for the intent of small talk.” 

“Then what?” 

Kaiba crossed his arms and huffed. “I don’t know.” 

Hitting the conversational wall, or whatever it was they were doing, was disappointing. Jounouchi rattled the contents of his glass, the only thing that gave him some relation to Kaiba that wasn’t a select few memories and an unconfirmed story that Kaiba had been magnanimous enough to make sure he didn’t fall on the ground after he’d passed out at a tournament. High school, insults, and ten years of absence stood between him and Kaiba. 

Jounouchi set the drink down. “I’ve been stuck here thirteen days so far. Prolly gonna be another week at least, so I’ll get to see the ball drop. That’ll be pretty fun,” he said, and sucked on his teeth before adding, “I don’t really like it here. There’s a lot to do, but I’m just here for work. We got this gritty location over in Brooklyn we’ve been filmin’ in, and my agent says it’s perfect ‘cause my English sounds like a weird New York accent from all these movies I watched when I was learnin’. It’s the reason I got a part.” 

“I thought you did soap operas,” Kaiba commented. 

“Usually. I’ve been on four so far, though I’ve mostly stuck with _Days Gone By_ since it’s been the least cheesy. Though it’s kinda weird. I’ve had people tell me there’s no way I should be as nice as I am in real life since I play the dick homewrecker boyfriend. Or whatever they’re callin’ me now,” he said, fiddling the buttons on his jacket. “I almost thought about going home and doin’ some dramas. I’ve had a couple calls, but I never really know where to go anymore. And I don’t figure I’ll be any better in Tokyo than I am in New York or LA. Might as well stick with LA. People don’t look twice at ya there.” 

“Depends on who you are.” 

“Well, I ain’t Tom Cruise. Not yet,” Jounouchi said. “You’re smilin’.” 

“Please.” 

“Ya are. I saw it, right there, on your face.” He hopped onto the next stool, leaning in as far as he could until a Kaiba caught his shoulder and squeezed. “Right there, it’s still there. I even saw that you have dimples.” 

“I don’t.” 

“You do. Tiny ones. Which makes sense since Mokuba does too, at least last time I saw him.” Jounouchi backed away, though it wasn’t until he was fully back that Kaiba let his shoulder go. “Surprised he’s not with ya on the holidays.” 

“Tch.” 

“Ya said you were where? Paris? Gotta be there on work or vacay, and vacation isn’t your style so...” 

“He’s in California. Pasadena, finishing up his Master’s,” Kaiba replied, sipping his drink.

“So you’re going to see him?” 

“I’m trying. Tried. Tried and failed, clearly, since I’m sitting in a hotel bar talking to you instead of at dinner with him,” Kaiba said, summoning his old fire, but either age, or alcohol, had dampened it.

“There’s gotta be some way.” 

“All ways have been exhausted, I assure you.” 

“Maybe we can think of somethin’.” 

Kaiba scoffed and shook his head. “Like what? You have some secret contact that could get me to California before midnight? It’s almost nine. Even if I found a miracle in an hour, I get there by...maybe nine. It’s pointless. Dinner will be missed.” 

“It’s worth tryin’,” Jounouchi said. “Sometimes when we have trouble movin’ around they find a way. We drive to another city, or take a helicopter. You got one of them, I’ve seen it.” 

They both looked out the window, the buildings outside visible through a gossamer web, outlines of themselves where the snow had picked up. “If you’re actually taking piloting lessons, you’ll realise that’s suicidal. The freeway isn’t moving. It took me two hours to get into the city and find a hotel. I’m stuck in this cesspool, and I’m going nowhere,” Kaiba said, with a hint of all-or-nothing finality that made Jounouchi shiver. 

He felt Kaiba’s words deep in his soul. That was it. That was how he felt looking around the hotel, at its lights and tinsel, at the bartender who already knew his order but basically didn’t talk to him. 

Jounouchi rubbed the back of his neck and stretched out his legs, fighting the tension. “It sucks,” he said, wondering if Kaiba did solidarity. Or whatever this was. “Bein’ alone for Christmas.” 

“This isn’t about Christmas.” 

“It kinda is,” Jounouchi rebuked, and he took another sip of the watered down drink. “Would it be as bad if ya weren’t missin’ dinner with him on like...a Tuesday?” 

“It would,” Kaiba replied, hiding the answer behind his whiskey glass and pretending he hadn’t said it at all. “It would, because we’d had this planned for months. Missing it just...shouldn’t happen.” 

“Ain’t there a quote? Something like...ya can do everythin’ right and still fail? It’s alright. I’m sure Mokuba will understand. Give him a call and let him know you’re on the way, but the weather sucks. Make Christmas your own thing,” Jounouchi suggested. 

Kaiba chortled to himself and wiped his hand down his face. 

“What’s so funny?” Jounouchi asked. “I don’t think what I’m sayin’ is all that ridiculous. Sometimes life sucks, okay? I get that. I’m here with some shitheads who don’t talk to me—call me a ramen flavour packet ‘cause they think it’s funny, or because they’re mad I got the lead role. I dunno which, but it fuckin’ sucks. So they got to go home while we take a break for two days, and I’m stuck here ‘cause...‘cause two days ain’t long enough for me to go back home.” 

“So you’re acquainting yourself with the entire liquor shelf?” Kaiba asked. 

“Just the Tito’s,” he said, raising his glass and smiling. “Sometimes Patrón.” 

The laughter stifled, but it took Kaiba several minutes to return to his brooding posture, though he faced Jounouchi head on, with his eyes open and his head lulled to the side. ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas’ droned in low timber, and Jounouchi was surprised that Kaiba didn’t react to it. Perhaps he was holding something in, as he always held something in, usually the stick up his ass but today it was something else. Something intangible. 

“I never thought you’d be the one lecturing me about these things. Least of all with Star Trek quotes,” Kaiba said. 

“I get around,” Jounouchi replied. “I figure I ought to be a well-rounded thespian. It might help me in the future.” 

“Noted.” 

They considered each other for a long moment, and Jounouchi considered wetting his mouth as it slowly went dry overlooking Kaiba. All of him was somehow the same, and yet just round enough to look different. His body matched his face, and he could tell through the tailored slacks that Kaiba was lean but tone just by how they hugged his thighs. 

“I mean, honestly, I didn’t think we’d see each other ever again. It’s been forever and here we are, drinkin’, shootin’ the shit. Guess I should ask ya how you’ve been since high school. That’s next, right?” 

Kaiba grimaced. “Do we have to?” 

“It’s what normal people do.” 

“We aren’t normal people.” 

“We can pretend,” Jounouchi said, careworn. “There’s nothin’ better to do, unless ya wanna go back to my room. Or your’s. Your’s is prolly nicer.” 

“Likely, it’s a suite.” 

“Thought so.” Jounouchi grinned, catching the little eyebrow raise Kaiba made. “We just got whatever the studio booked. But it’s got a decent minibar.” 

Terror hit Jounouchi as he leaned in closer. His heart throbbed in his fingertips. He reached towards Kaiba’s hands. A squeal from skin in glass stopped Jounouchi, and he returned to fiddling with the buttons on his jacket. 

“Are those the only options?” Kaiba asked. 

“There’s prolly more somewhere,” Jounouchi said, taken aback and unable to come up with anything better. 

“So you really want to go upstairs and do what I think you want to do?” 

Jounouchi glanced up and closed his eyes. “I know. Pathetic, right? But I guess...I dunno. I dunno what I want right now, but it prolly doesn’t include listenin’ to Christmas music. Or drinkin’ the rest of the Tito’s bottle by myself.” 

Kaiba polished off his drink and slammed it on the countertop so loud Jounouchi thought it might break. He jumped up, nodding towards the exit before pivoting towards it. 

Fire poured through his veins, and Jounouchi was stunlocked long enough that Kaiba disappeared around the corner towards the elevator. 

Shouting for the bartender to add it to his tab, he stumbled over his tangled feet and jogged up to the elevator just before it closed, slithering between the doors. “Give a guy a warnin’, huh?” he said, breathless.

“I didn’t think you were that drunk.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You left your sunglasses,” Kaiba said, invading the space between them. 

Heat permeated from Kaiba, enough to push Jounouchi in closer and tentatively grab his wrist. A kiss planted on his lips. A tongue snaked into his mouth before he was prepared, forcing a weak breath. Kaiba wasn’t letting him escape, cupping the back of his head and threading his fingers in Jounouchi’s hair and knocking the ballcap to ground. 

“You—,” Jounouchi attempted between breaths. 

Kaiba’s other hand pinched the small of Jounouchi’s back and shoved them together, his knees knocking against Kaiba’s as he tried to manage standing steady. Between the elevator, the liquor, and Kaiba’s sudden intimacy, Jounouchi wasn’t sure what was making his stomach flip. But it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He really didn’t know what kind of thing it was, he couldn’t put words to it. 

“Where are we—?” 

“My room.” 

Jounouchi nodded and stumbled back into the wall. It took Kaiba a lot of effort, he wasn’t letting the bastard get all of him for free. There was going to be a fight, a little rough-housing if he had to guess the kind of lover Kaiba was. Controlling. Demanding. A dictator in the bedroom, and that didn’t quite fly with Jounouchi’s style, but for the night it would have to do. Anything to have a warm body up against his, and even more, a body he was familiar with, even if he hadn’t seen anything south of Kaiba’s collarbones. 

The doors slid open, and Kaiba kept him pinned for long enough to glance at the waiting passengers. 

“Well, we aren’t doin’ it in the elevator,” Jounouchi said, sucking in precious oxygen. 

Kaiba wordlessly led him down the length of the hall and into the double-doors around a corner. He patted his coat until he found the keycard, flashing it across a panel so blended in that Jounouchi couldn’t find it before he was thrust into the room. 

With its living room, fine furniture, and fireplace, the suite was the kind of cozy that felt like it could have been a home if he forgot that he was staying in a hotel. Even the bed was soft—softer than his, the comforter was velvety, as was the thick wool of the coat Kaiba had thrown onto the bed on his way to the bathroom. 

“You should get undressed if we’re doing this,” Kaiba said, sitting beside him and dipping the bed. 

“Are we doin’ this?” With Kaiba naked from the waist up, Jounouchi suspected his question was answered.

Kaiba leaned in for another kiss. “You gave me the option.” 

“Is talkin’ really that bad?” Jounouchi asked.

“Do you want to keep talking about how miserable we’ve both been since high school?” 

Though it probably wasn’t as miserable as Kaiba let on—Jounouchi had found the depressing notes he’d written to himself when drunk, and they were expertly melodramatic and hard to ignore—but he knew they were both looking for something. Something neither could define, but explicitly knew and gravitated towards. 

Jounouchi slipped into Kaiba’s lap and balanced unsuccessfully, grabbing Kaiba’s shoulders every few seconds as he struggled to take his jacket and shirts off. Kaiba himself didn’t help, suckling at the vein on his neck and nipping at the jawline. 

“You’re gonna make the make-up artist hate me,” Jounouchi mentioned. 

Kaiba hummed knowingly before suckling harder. He fiddled with the button on Jounouchi’s jeans, though he struggled long enough to make Jounouchi second guess this sudden affair. Shivers still went up his spine as Kaiba’s hands brushed his bulge and threatened to fondle him. 

Embracing Kaiba tight, burying his nose in the thick of his hair (musky, but also sweet) Jounouchi sucked back the unsureness, knowing he wanted this. He wanted this, definitely, because he liked the idea of it way more than top-knot bartender. “I liked you...kinda. Off and on.” 

“Hn.” 

“In high school. And after, but I haven’t seen ya around so much. Whenever I see your picture I—I think—ahhh—I think I’m gonna clip it out an’ keep it. But then...you....your mouth....”

He was thrown onto his back, groaning, and his foot slid up Kaiba’s calf, around his knee, along his taut thighs. Defined and sinuous. Beautiful, even if they were as pale as the snow. He attempted to pull Kaiba’s underwear off with his toes, but he couldn’t get a grip. 

“What about pictures?” Kaiba asked, low. 

“Nothin’.” Jounouchi shook his head. “Nothin’, it’s stupid. ‘Sides, we weren’t supposed to be talkin’ about that stuff. Keep doin’...whatever you were doin’ with your mouth.” 

Their foreheads touched, and Kaiba kissed him chastely, running his tongue along Jounouchi’s lower lip. He didn’t know if that was what he meant, or if Kaiba misunderstood him. He didn’t complain. Kaiba was being surprisingly compliant and giving him something more than nothing on Christmas. Something he knew he wanted, for even a scant moment, and he kissed back, humming as he did. 

“ _I don’t want a lot for Christmas.._.,” 

“Jounouchi...”Kaiba groaned. 

“ _There is just one thing I need_ ,” he sing-songed, expecting Kaiba to throw him off. Instead, he was pelted with kisses, and they melted together on the bed. He curled into Kaiba. Days of exhaustion seeped from his pores, and his chest expanded fully, taking in Kaiba’s musk with greed in between the kisses. “ _Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas is...this.._.” 

Kaiba exhaled. “That’s not how it goes.” 

“That’s how I want it to go. For now. I dunno know about past that.”

“Mokuba’s in California,” Kaiba mentioned. “I’m sure you are, too.” 

“Mm-hm.” Jounouchi kissed Kaiba again, tracing a line down his torso. He stopped at the elastic band, catching a loose nail over it. He hummed the chorus of the song, slowing it down and deviating to mix of tunes he knew belonged to something, but right now, belonged to them and their embrace for the rest of the night. 

California tomorrow, he thought whimsically. For Christmas, he had New York. 

**Author's Note:**

> Personally I know there’s some....feelings I’ve been experiencing this holiday season that have cropped up in here. Namely exploring loneliness in some way, which I know happens to folks. That said, I wish it could always end with a Kaiba lol. 
> 
> I tempted to go further, and you can imagine they do or don’t but I liked it where it stopped. Going further story wise just didn’t work, though it’s a fun realm to explore, Jou being an actor and all. 
> 
> xD anways, Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, and I hope you enjoyed the fic!


End file.
